thistimeonly

92853
23
Apr

(Source: icantbelieveyoufoundme, via sr8olguin)
520
21
Nov

"I have this dream every night. Even when I can’t remember it the next morning, I know it was there, like the depression a lover’s head leaves on the pillow next to you after she’s left. I dream not of growing old with her, but of never growing old, either of us. She never leaves me, and I never leave her. It’s true, I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of the world moving forward without me, of my absence going unnoticed, or worse, being some natural force propelling life on. Is it selfish? Am I such a bad person for dreaming of a world that ends when I do? I don’t mean the world ending with respect to me, but every set of eyes closing with mine."

- Foer (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: familiarplaces, via loveyourchaos)
3
Jul

I turned around and all I could see was his face. Sweet, smiling in the moonlight. Fresh raindrops hit the concrete, the smell of wet grass hot in the air surrounding us. For a moment there was no one else; not another being on this planet except just us two. It felt familiar, like déjà vu, and the memory suddenly came flooding back. It was in a dream that had recurred over and over. When my mind became restless (so many nights) I dreamt hard and deep and those dreams often stuck in my bones, becoming part of my physical shape. Sometimes these dreams of mine felt like they were happening in real life, just like now. Most often they seemed small and rather insignificant. This one was leaving a mark. It was a remarkable feeling, like going down one path for such a large part of my life, then pivoting, shifting abruptly.

The alley was quiet and dark. The lights shining from the corners of the building provided little light where we were standing, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the rain shimmering as each drop passed the rays streaming down. I could feel my hair sticking to the side of my face and neck, my hands shaking, hanging at my sides. His face was blurry to my eyes, but I had never really needed to see him, I could always feel what he was thinking just by the way he breathed. I had known every inch of him, and he, every inch of me. So many nights we had slept close. Every now and then when I was alone in bed I could still feel his arm enclose around me.

Tonight, I could feel my heart slam against my chest, and even over the sound of the rain I could hear his shallow breathing. That meant he was nervous; not only could I hear it in his breath, but also I saw it in his clenched fists. Maybe for once he was out of words.

Only one way to find out.

He stepped closer, I couldn’t move. He came closer still, and still my mind wouldn’t tell my legs to move. I looked at him; tried to see his eyes and then further beyond that. I suppose I wanted to read his ~~heart~~ mind before I felt safe enough to take just one step. Soon he was only a short distance away. My stomach turned, my lungs labored, my toes tried to grip at the ground below just to stay upright.

He was less than a foot away. The humidity did nothing to stifle the heat radiating off his body. I felt every pulse his heart made. His hand reached out slowly in front of him. I stared at it, my mind full of words, but my mouth empty. His fingers touched my cheek, sending a shock down through my heels. Memories ran through my head, circling around my brain.

“I’m sorry.” – these words so simple, falling from his lips. They didn’t make sense to me, didn’t mean a thing. I had heard those same words, with that same voice attached, so many times before. I wanted to take them away from him, so he could never use them against me again. I would bury them in some far away place, maybe on a remote island somewhere, just so they would never find their way back into his vocabulary.

I shook my head slowly. I moved my hand up to touch the fingers still resting on my cheek. My fingers curved around them, pulling them to my lips – then waiting. Just on those few fingertips I could smell the raw of his skin. I should say something.

“No. You’re not.” My voice swayed. He noticed. He always noticed.

“I know I’ve done this before. This time I’m really sorry. I love you. You know how much I love you. My heart screams it every second of every day. Even when you don’t see me, you can still feel it.”

Thank God for the rain. The tears that came mixed unnoticed with the drops sliding, dripping off of my chin.

“I know you loved me once. I’m not sure if you do anymore.” This time my voice was harsh.

My fingers still held his at my lips. He pushed them just forward just slightly. His bare finger on the sensitive flesh of my lower lip was intoxicating. His eyes, dark in the nighttime, fixed on my mouth. At that moment, I prayed.

Please don’t kiss me. Don’t make me any more weak than I already am. Just leave. Turn around and leave.

The moment the prayer was finished, his mouth was descending on mine. His hands placed gently on either side of my face. My mind was blank. Wave after wave of thoughtless images danced in my head. In my heart, I felt one with him. There had been no separation, no one leaving the other ever before. It had always been just the two of us.

I’m not going to kid myself now though. My mind snapped back to the moment. I pushed him away; he looked stunned.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

My mouth started spewing out words I wasn’t sure I really meant.

“It doesn’t matter how many times you kiss me now. I know I’ll never forget the way they feel. There is no need to remind me. But each time you leave me, my heart cracks a little, and pretty soon it will shatter. I will be the one cleaning up the pieces, baby, not you. So stop. Stop trying to convince me that I’m the only thing that matters to you. You know I don’t fit you anymore, and so do I.”

My feet turned me right around I knew I couldn’t look back at him because I would change my mind for sure. The end of the alley seemed so far away. There was no safe place except there though, so I had to keep walking. As soon as I was out of his sight I might be able to breathe again.

I turned the corner and let a breath out. I had left him behind in all that darkness. It was time to leave what was in the past far behind me. I was ready for something new.
- life,
- new
- love
- me
- you
26
Jun
26
Jun

ilovemyleica:

scattered (by D.Kafka)
LeicaM9
21
25
Jun

ilovemyleica:

nothing to lose (by gato-gato-gato)

LeicaM9
142
25
Jun

(via lovemetoinfinity)
24
Jun

"i don’t need anything else but me."
23
Jun

I think I’d like to be someone else for a little while. I’d like to be one of those super happy people that have husbands and babies and anniversaries. I don’t mean I want to be them forever, just for a little while, just to see what it would be like. Maybe like a week, or a month, or 20 years…
1057
23
Jun

"Kiss me and you will see how important I am."

- Sylvia Plath | submitted by girlwithoutwings (via quote-book) (via truthinmywords)
23
Jun

(via truthinmywords)
2
23
Jun

"I feel like air could move through me, Like I am clean linen fluttering on a clothes line, Like New York city itself is made out of rice paper and I am light enough to run across every rooftop."

- Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) (via iheartabi)
313
21
Jun

"You have a serious problem of distorting reality. You could sleep with the entire planet and still feel rejected."

- La science des rêves (via seagoat) (via smokeyquartz)
20
Jun

Something makes me want to apologize for not being what you wanted, for watching you walk away through my teary eyes and not being able to say the right thing and make everything better. Even now, so long past that, it still feels strange. You still feel strange. Part of me still wants to know you, every part that you wouldn’t let me see. It’s okay though, I’m hoping for your heart to cave in someday and want to let me in. You’ll come to me and say you’re ready for this. But my heart will be gone already, and you’ll be the sad one.
4
20
Jun

"Every good, true, vigorous feeling I have, gathers impulsively round him. I know I must conceal my sentiments; I must smother hope; I must remember that he cannot care much for me. For when I say that I am of his kind, I do not mean that I have his force to influence, and his spell to attract; I mean only that I have certain tastes and feeling in common with him, I must, then, repeat continually that we are forever sundered; and yet, while I breathe and think, I must love him."

- Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre